The last thing Harry expected when he arrived at the address Louis sent him was to be standing outside one of the nicest apartment buildings in town. Hesitantly, Harry walks in and is greeted by a cold, open room. Green eyes fall on a figure standing in the back of the lobby, sitting in one of the giant red armchairs that are scattered around. 

"I didn't think you'd actually come," Louis sighs. Harry shrugs as he walks to where Louis is. Slowly, the older man stands. He doesn't look much different than they did the last time they talked. Surely something should've changed about Louis' appearance in the month that he's gone without seeing him. 

"I got curious," Harry replies curtly. Truthfully, he doesn't know what he's getting into or how Louis could explain things enough for Harry to forgive him. Taylor told him to come in with an open mind and that's what Harry's trying to do.

Louis' eyes fall as he motions for Harry to follow him. As they begin the wall down a long hallway Harry can't help but ask, "How did you know I was going to be playing?"

"Taylor told me," Louis replies. He turns back to look at Harry as they come to a stop in front of a series of elevators. Pieces of abstract art hanging off of the walls. Maybe in a different life, Harry would like abstract art, but it's never been his thing. Maybe this is Louis' favorite form of art, he does live here after all. 

The sound of an elevator door opening crushes the suffocating silence between the two of them. Louis gestures for Harry to step inside, which Harry does. The inside of the elevator has a scenic photo of the Los Angeles skyline. It's outdated, Harry can tell that much. His own apartment building can't be seen in the landscape. 

He glances at Louis as the elevator's doors close. "You know, I didn't like her at first but she's starting to grow on me," Louis chuckles. 

"She does that," Harry smiles. The ride up the elevator is silent after that. An awkward air hangs between them as the doors slide open. 

Louis leads Harry down another long, cold hallway. The walls and floor are all painted white with abstract shapes in various colors framed along the path. Harry didn't take Louis for someone who would enjoy the kind of space like this. The air is stiff and dead, while Louis seems to always be alive. Harry would've taken Louis as someone who would appreciate the more classical ways that people wield wealth. If Harry had any say in the matter, that's what he would do with his own families' riches. 

"This is me," Louis replies as they stop at a door along the way. It doesn't take long for Louis to unlock the door and allow the both of them in. 

Harry is taken aback by the beauty of the space when he steps inside. He didn't expect Louis to be living so lavishly, especially in a place like LA. The apartment has been lived in with clothes in various places and a couple of dishes in the sink. It smells of Louis, in the way that Harry can't quite put his finger on. Harry guesses dark roast coffee and caramel, something that reminds Harry of his favorite time of year and, coincidently, the season that they met. 

He follows Louis deeper into the apartment as they pass a couple of doors before coming into the living area. A show has been paused, but Louis turns it off before Harry has the chance to catch what it is. Cream-colored pillows and a throw blanket lay sprawled against the charcoal-colored sofa. However, the most striking thing about the room is the wall.

Photos and names and sticky notes cover the wall of the living room. Usually, Harry would be hesitant putting anything on the walls of a space that isn't his to avoid damaging the paint, but Louis doesn't seem to share the same concerns.

Harry takes a step closer to the wall, noticing first the seflie in the center. The girl in the middle is pretty with long wavy brown hair. Her eyebrows are arched in a way similar to that of Louis'. "Who's she," Harry questions. For a moment, there's a flash of jealousy in his tone, but Harry quickly extinguishes it.

"She's why I came to America," Louis explains. Harry turns to him quickly, unable to contain the jealousy anymore. Did he come to America for a girl? Was he in a relationship this whole time?

"Who is she," Harry repeats. He can feel his cheeks turning red, but Louis doesn't seem concerned about Harry's anger. 

Instead, Louis walks over to the photo of her and then reaches up to point at the photos of a man and woman. The man resembles Louis in nearly every way. They share the same distinct nose and shape of the mouth. Their hair sits in nearly the same fashion too, both feathery and brown. It's an older photo with lines and creases, obviously a cherished object. Harry wonders if it's a personal souvenir of Louis'. He remembers hearing that he lived with his father up until his death and Harry finds himself wondering if this is the man in question. 

 Next, Harry's eyes turn to the photo of the woman. This woman looks more like the girl, but they share key differences as well. Both have the same down-turned eyes, but Harry notices the arch to the woman's eyebrows is more dramatic than that of the girls. Obviously, the two are related somehow. 

"Do you see it," Louis asks softly. Harry turns to Louis; not quite sure what Louis is trying to imply. 

"Well, the girl and the woman are related, probably mother and daughter. He's your father I think. You look similar," Harry sighs, not knowing how this is related at all to their own quarrels. 

"Look again," Louis chastises. 

Harry looks closer this time to the woman. She's pretty and maybe in her youth she could've been a model he decides. Her eyes are a familiar shade of blue and they slope down in a way that Harry's seen before too. He finds himself drawn to the arch of her eyebrows again. The girl doesn't wear her mother's eyebrows, but someone else does. 

"She's my half-sister, the girl. Her name's Lottie. I don't know much about her, yet" Louis explains through a sigh. Harry looks between the three photos. The man and woman must be Louis' parents. The woman, Louis, and Lottie all share the same eyes, he notices.

"Different fathers? I remember you saying that your dad was gone a lot, did he have other kids," Harry questions. Louis stands over a table in the living room now. There's a couple of manila folders scattered around it with various papers and photos. Harry didn't notice it when he first walked in, but now he finds it hard to miss.

"No, I was my dad's only kid. My mom was married to Lottie's father when I was born. It was a complicated situation from what I've been able to figure out."

"So, what, you came to America to see your sister," Harry questions, still not understanding what this has to do with anything. Louis runs a hand through his hair.

"I came to find my family, Harry. My dad took me away from all of my family here when I was 2 months old, and I've never been back. When he died, I decided to start trying to find them. With some help, I managed to find a lead that I had a sister that may be in Las Vegas, so that's why I went. Obviously, the whole marriage thing complicated that," Louis explains with a wave of his hand.

"Oh yeah, you think? The 'marriage thing' complicated everything," Harry snaps. He turns to look at Louis, who's moved again to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. With a start, Louis turns to look at Harry with an angry look in his eyes. 

"Did you think this was in the plan for me, Harry? Well, it wasn't okay? I didn't want this any more than you did. I came here to find my family for fuck's sake and now... well now it's different. Do you know how many times I considered booking a flight and never looking back? And it's not like you make it easy, Harry! You're a fucking nightmare. You never know what the hell you're doing half the time and it's always this hot-and-cold with you. I just... I just fucking wish you'd be honest with me at some point. It seems like the only time you can get out of your own fucking head is when you're plastered," Louis shouts. 

Harry feels tears pooling in his eyes, but he doesn't want to wipe them away. "You're no easier! You keep saying that you're straight but then you make all these jokes about us being together and then drove all the way to see me and got jealous when I brought Taylor over! It's not like you're being honest with me either! You've been lying this whole time." 

"You want me to be honest with you Harry? How's this," Louis says. Harry watches in shock as Louis takes a couple of steps towards Harry until they're only a few inches away. Harry looks over Louis, but he still manages to feel small under Louis' intense gaze.

"If I knew you were comfortable with it, I would be kissing you right now, but you aren't. You're only comfortable kissing me when you're drunk because then you can blame it on the alcohol instead of admitting that you're attracted to me. You want honest? I only gave the excuse that I needed a visa because I wanted an excuse to stay around a little longer because I thought you were interesting. I wanted to spend time with you because I'm interested in you, Harry. What's your excuse," Louis whispers? All at once, he takes a step back, leaving Harry with warm cheeks and an odd feeling in his stomach.

For once, Harry knows what to say but he's not sure if he has the guts to say it. He's not sure if he's ready to tell Louis what he wants to tell him.

"Figured."

Harry rubs at his eyes, not to wipe away the forming tears but to help ease the forming headache. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing, alright? I'm... I came here because you fucked up and lied to me, not... not to hear this."

"I'm sorry for lying to you about the visa, but everything else I've told you is true. I just wanted more time to get to know you and I needed some reason to stall the divorce to do so. Was it fucked? Yeah, it was. I'm sorry that it probably messed some stuff up for you. I just, I can't keep tip-toeing around this anymore," Louis says.

There's a pleading look in Louis' eyes and Harry can tell that Louis is just as confused and anxious as he is. He can tell that Louis is going out on a limb and trying not to get burned. Maybe Louis is secure enough to admit to what Harry can't. Not yet.

"I don't know what to tell you," Harry whispers. He does. He knows what to say he just can't form the words.

"That's okay. When you do, text me. I'll be around for a while." 

~_~_~

Hey guys! I've decided on a new update style for the last couple of chapters of this story. I'm only going to be uploading a chapter when I already have one in my drafts, that way there's always something I can publish so updates don't get so far apart again. Anyway, currently, there are 5 chapters of this story planned and another... bonus feature perse. I'd love to hear your thoughts of the tale so far and where you think it'll go from here. As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! ~B